


Two Years Gone (And Almost Home)

by PhoenixDragon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Character Study, Episode Tag (for the ending of 'The Chase'), Gen, Introspection, Mild Angst, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:11:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1961493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixDragon/pseuds/PhoenixDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Two years and six months was quite enough time away as far as Ms. Wright and Mr. Chesterton were concerned. They had run the gauntlet both at home (and as far from it as can be imagined), all either of them wanted was to get back to work and the day to day of life on Earth.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Years Gone (And Almost Home)

Two years gone by.

Well, two years and six months, to be precise.

Once the excitement over their untoward disappearance had died down, the Headmaster of Coal Hill School had been reluctant to hire them back on, but he could find no reason to keep Ian and Barbara from teaching. There had been no scandal, they were still fit as educators (something the Headmaster was more than eager to test), and the parents of the students didn’t seem to mind their mysterious celebrity; even as no real answers were forthcoming from them about their respective vanishing acts.

Well, none that satisfied at any rate.

Quite frankly, their individual (yet vague) stories were boring. But not wholly unreasonable. It took two months to explain themselves to all and sundry – from the police, to the press, to the Coal Hill community itself. It helped that they were life-long residents and citizens of the town and though there were still whispers and stares of curiosity, the spectacle of it all faded away soon enough. After all, there were always other things going on within the world and the attention of even the small community they called home couldn’t hold for long on something so mundane as their particular (though not very informative) reasons for being away.

“Honestly,” Barbara was known to say during the first weeks of their return. “You’d think they wanted to hear we were abducted by little green men or something!”

Of course, they had a good laugh over that one. They had been abducted alright, but by a London Police Public Call Box and a rather grouchy old madman they had grown quite fond of over the last two years; the little green men came later (as Ian was known to observe with a smile). That smile had grown fonder, if a tad sadder as the next few months wore on – and all too soon, they were pulled back into their lives again – quite as if those lives had never stopped.

The only difference was the strength of their friendship. Even their friends remarked on how close they had grown, as though they had never spent those two years away from one another. Barbara said they were appreciating what they had been without, while Ian was quick to quip that ‘absence made the heart grow fonder’. The looks on their faces were similar though and generally prompted the nosy, well-meaning questioner to find a way to change the subject.

After a while, even that went unnoticed. Then it was generally assumed by all that they were ‘an item’ (as their students put it) and seeing as how no one was interested in grown adults and who they dated, even that was eventually left alone. Neither Ian nor Barbara were really sure if they were grateful, or stung by this reaction – but it certainly made it easier to go on said dates without the whole community whispering about it.

All in all, life went on its path and soon they were to get back to the business of living. Two years and six months was quite enough time away as far as Ms. Wright and Mr. Chesterton were concerned. They had run the gauntlet both at home (and as far from it as can be imagined), all either of them wanted was to get back to work and the day to day of life on Earth.

Finally that day arrived.

 

 

Ian walked into his old classroom and stopped short when he realized it was already occupied. Students weren’t due in for another hour and he wanted to take a moment to reacquaint himself with his lab, get the feel of the place again and go over his curriculum while he did so. The other person didn’t look up immediately and Ian went from startled to irritated as a few minutes passed and his presence still went unnoticed.

It didn’t take him long to ascertain this had been his replacement and he wondered what the man was still doing here. One would assume the Headmaster had informed him of the change in situation. Ian hadn’t expected to run into him at all, but as the moment dragged on, he found himself less irritated and more curious.

The Headmaster had been pleased (even if reluctant to some extent), to bring him back on. He could only guess half the reluctance had been over the teacher he’d hired two years before to replace his wayward educator. The Headmaster hadn’t bothered to explain and Ian was too preoccupied with getting his position back to ask. Now he had a chance to observe the man who had taken his place for such a brief period – and if he had learned anything during his tenure with the Doctor – it was how to take advantage of a situation; get his bearings so to speak. 

Most of the time while he was away, ‘getting his bearings’ was something he was forced to do within a split second, if not less. Seeing how inattentive his replacement was, he had the luxury of taking a moment to actually watch what the man was doing, get a feel for who he was based on his actions. The only thing he was getting so far was that he was a very focused individual, who really needed to pay more heed to his immediate surroundings.

“Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to introduce yourself?” The young man inquired, eyes never moving from the papers in front of him.

To Ian’s credit, he didn’t startle – but the rudeness rankled a bit. That was, it rankled until he saw the small smile tugging at the corners of the man’s mouth. Seemed the upstart knew exactly when Ian had arrived and had taken the time to observe him as well. The replacement’s replacement, as it were. Interesting.

“Sorry,” Ian countered smoothly, hesitating only a moment before sticking his hand out for a shake, disarming smile at the ready as the young man swiveled to face him, grasping his hand in a firm, but cool grip. “I didn’t expect to run into you. Startled me a bit.”

“I think you don’t startle very easily do you, Mr.?”

“Chesterton. Ian Chesterton – just Ian, if you please.”

“Ah, splendid name,” the young man beamed, eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that seemed familiar, even as Ian was quite sure he had never met the man before in his life. “John Smith. Doctor John Smith – though I have a tendency to drop the first part when I’m tooling about in the world. Too much of a mouthful all at once, really.”

John bounced to his feet, long limbs just this side of awkward as he slid past Ian to the hotplate, a kettle already on the hob, steam rising merrily from its spout. He snagged the handle and seemingly materialized two cups out of the very air, placing one in front of Ian before pouring a healthy slug of tea into it. He replaced the kettle and poured a generous dollop of cream from the side table into each cup, then two lumps of sugar for himself and one for Ian, stirring his tea briskly before handing the spoon over, not realizing his audience was truly gob-smacked.

“I was just getting ready to have some tea before shoving off, thought you’d might like some, Chatterton,” John said smoothly, settling himself back in his chair with an odd little hop, as his foot hooked on another chair, dragging it closer so Ian could sit down as well.

He sipped his tea in an absentminded fashion, one hand waving for Ian to take the chair as he did so, the cup hardly away from his lips for two seconds before he was twittering away again – the formerly still and silent individual lost in a buzz of nervous energy. Ian didn’t get a chance to correct him about his name as the man launched into an explanation for his presence, his speech rapid-fire and his gestures animated enough that Ian feared for the mug at the man’s elbow.

“ – so I naturally thought, seeing as how I was being replaced by the man I had replaced – that I should get a proper look at you, see you for myself. I know that’s not usually how it is done, but I’m not known for doing things the usual way, I’m told. Often. And sometimes with a raised voice. Did I get the tea wrong?” Ian was thrown for a moment as John peered at him over the rim of his own teacup, his shift in subject and intensity leaving him with an odd sense of déjà vu, Ian’s mind still struggling to catch up as he blindly looked down at his own tea, mouth opening before he could quite stop himself.

“Oh! Oh no, the tea is perfect,” Ian stuttered out finally, taking a polite sip only to almost choke on it as it _was_ perfect. Completely perfect. From the darkness of the brew to the milk and sugar that was added (without any consultation on how he might like it, which was odd – and rude – but hardly of consequence as it was… _perfect_ ). “Exactly how I –”

“Oh good!” John beamed, clapping his hands together and rubbing them briskly, his eyes twinkling with warm pleasure as though they were old friends just having a chat over a cuppa. “I was worried that I hadn’t quite got it right. I think I rather like you Chatterton –”

“Chesterton,” Ian said with a bemused smile.

“ – and now that I’ve had a good look at you, I think it would be best if I took my leave, right?” John tilted his head to peer at him, that smile so, so familiar even as it was on the wrong face.

Really, the whole conversation (or lack of it from Ian’s side), was dizzily familiar and yet the person was…not. Ian was startled to find himself lulled into the pattern he had held for two years – one that left him nodding in all the right places, amused and yet attentive – completely wrapped up in the spell the Doctor would weave…

“I’m sorry, are you alright?” John asked, high energy dropping away again as he peered into Ian’s face, the wash of déjà vu leaving Ian feeling faint and slightly displaced. Like that time the TARDIS landed but hadn’t really and –

“Yes,” Ian said mildly, stunned with a wave of homesickness though he was (to all intents and purposes), already home. He was back on Earth and any moment he would be teaching again and he could go to his flat at the end of the day and talk to Barbara about this. Maybe they could go for a drink at the pub and he would tell her about the funny young man that for a moment (and a rather long one at that), had reminded him of the Doctor and wouldn’t she just laugh about that notion! _Imagine_ – another, younger version of the Doctor running around being mad and loud and overly inquisitive about everything.

John almost looked the part, too – with his trim, dark waistcoat and smartly done bowtie. All he needed was a cane to round off the look and could have been the Doctor in his younger years. As if the old man would ever admit to having weathered such an undignified, awkward stage of life known as ‘youth’.

“Yes,” he repeated, swallowing back the urge to giggle, even as the strange look on John’s face was sobering. The whipsaw of feeling left Ian feeling more than slightly giddy and he had to look away and take a sip of tea before he started blurting out anecdotes or some such on things best left alone. “Yes, I’m fine. Just felt a touch faint there for a moment. Probably over-excitement. It has been a while since I’ve been in front of a blackboard.”

“Indeed it has,” John murmured thoughtfully, his quiet sadness odd and yet so perfectly in line with Ian’s own feelings at that moment, he couldn’t roust himself to do much more than nod awkwardly in response.

Ian forced himself to shrug it off, taking another sip of the perfect tea to steady himself, get a grip on the situation at hand; the young man had just lost his job. It was only logical he be sad, even as he would want to see the man who had been gone (without a trace) for two years. Just idle curiosity, maybe.

As for the tea, well…maybe someone told him how Ian liked it. It was perfectly plausible, really: an offhand remark that somehow stuck in John’s memory, the making of Ian’s tea done with that information (somehow) in mind. There was surely a good explanation for the last fifteen minutes. Something that had nothing to do with telephone boxes that were also time machines and old men who led expeditions to other worlds. Just an over-active imagination at work; too much adventuring and not enough time back on Earth to adjust before throwing himself in headlong again.

“I’m sorry,” John said quietly, those green eyes so striking and old within that young face – and once more so, so familiar all Ian could do was stare wordlessly, trying to remember that there was a world, there was a time before that madman with a box – and not everything came back to that man and his wonderful, dangerous machine. “This…this was a bad idea.”

“Oh no,” Ian said quickly, feeling slightly guilty as the man rose to his feet, his movements more subdued (though hardly any more graceful), unsure why he felt that way, but not wanting John to leave just yet. Not while he was so strangely sad and quiet. Oddly enough, Ian would have been happier if John was tetchy about it all. He had certainly had enough practice handling _that_ while he was away. “I was very pleased to meet you, John. Very pleased, indeed. You seem a fine young man and I know that anywhere you go, they will be very glad to have you.”

That prompted a laugh out of the other man, a quick, almost startled chuckle that seem to rise from his toes and wreath his face with that quirky glimmer of joy that relaxed Ian, even as it made him feel homesick all over again. John glance at him out of the corner of his eye, mouth tilted into a half-smile like they had just shared a particularly wry and amusing joke. He gathered his papers and shoved them into a slim briefcase that appeared (once again, seemingly out of nowhere) on the desk – flicking the overly long fringe of hair out of his eyes as he snapped the case closed with a flourish – his movements quick and efficient, worlds apart from the overly clumsy demeanor just minutes before. He spun back to Ian with a casual, yet lightning-fast grace, hand held out in front of him almost as though in apology, those eyes (again) looking way too ancient for that boyish set of features, his smile crooked yet kind; the parting of old friends instead of new acquaintances.

“I certainly hope they will, sir,” John said, the tone thoughtful even as his smile widen a notch. “Thank you for allowing me to have the two best years of my life. I do believe it was the finest beginning a man could ever hope for – and I am imminently grateful to you, Chatterton. More than I could ever say.”

Ian could only stare as his hand was swallowed once more by that cool, firm grip – sure that more was being said here than a mere thank you. He stuttered something unintelligible to himself, but John seemed to understand it as he nodded once and released Ian’s hand, fingers curling into his lapel as he smiled wryly, those intense green eyes alight with pleasure, mouth quirked with some unnamable emotion that could only be described (strangely enough) as pride. Ian tried to not react when one thumb stroked absently over the cut of John’s lapel, his head tilted in that familiar way – and if Ian mentally replaced the briefcase with a cane –

“Seems the two years weren’t unkind to you, either,” John observed with a thoughtful nod. “And that’s more than good enough to be going on with, yes? Well. Good day to you, Chatterton. Hope you brought an umbrella – it will be raining a little later on today, I believe. Hmm, come to think of it, I won’t be needing mine. No need to return it, I have plenty. Just be sure to keep a weather eye out.”

He started to move away and Ian would never know why he asked, but he felt compelled to, even as it was (especially in this day and age), rude to be so forward with a mere acquaintance. So much of the previous conversation was odd, he didn’t stop to wonder at John’s reaction until much, much later.

“Doctor! John, I mean,” Ian said quickly, giving himself a shake as the other man seemed to freeze in the classroom doorway. “Do you have a place to stay? That is…before you find a new appointment?”

John’s shoulder’s relaxed fractionally and he half-turned to peer at Ian with that enigmatic smile – like they had just shared something secret and funny that only the two of them would understand. Ian smile back and never quite knew why, just knowing somehow that it was the right thing to do. It felt right. It felt _good_.

It almost felt like home.

“I am situated quite well, Chesterton,” John said with that touch of fond pride to his tone, the sudden use of Ian’s proper last name just as startling as what John said next. “I’m not far from here actually – near about Totter’s Lane. But I shan’t be there for long, I suspect. Then again, except for this school – this time, I should say – I’m never anywhere very long, I should think.”

John was halfway out the door before he turned again, that odd smile still on his face, the look of goodbye in the tilt of his lips.

“I am sorry to have missed seeing Barbara, though. Please do give her my regards if you would, Ian, there’s a good chap. I won’t be seeing either of you again, but I will always think of you fondly.”

Any response Ian could have made was lost to the sudden emptiness of the doorway, John’s departure swift and leaving no room for argument or questions. Ian half-wished he could chase after him, but his damned knees were wobbling so and he was quite out of breath – almost like he had been running. He did the only think he could think to do and sat down, dragging the cup of perfect tea closer, though that was more absent-minded than anything else. He had half an hour to himself left before the students came pouring in for the new school year; a fact he was rather grateful for as he felt he would need every minute of that time to get himself pulled together.

He drank the tea without tasting it, though he would wish later he had, the pull of melancholy not wholly unwelcome, nor unexpected – but just as dizzying as it had been when he and Barbara had finally said goodbye to the old man they had come to care for far more than they had ever thought they would. He thought he was ready to come home to Coal Hill. They both had thought that – and until he had walked through the door of his old science classroom – he was quite sure of it. There was no hope for it but to do his best and leave the past John Smith had stirred up (quite unknowingly Ian was sure), where it belonged. Even if for a moment, he wished he could run away again, see the stars up close as only the Doctor could show them.

His teacup was rinsed out and put on the sideboard mere minutes before the first wave of students came higgledy-piggledy into the room, their noise and chatter a different kind of coming home. He was sure Barbara would laugh with him over his odd morning (even as she would smile the same sad smile he did), so he would be sure to share what had happened when they were both curled comfortably on the couch, lost in the friendship, the love they had found and forged through that recently shared past they spoke of with less and less frequency.

Maybe he could find comfort in her laughter and a hand to hold when home became too much (as it admittedly still did at times). It hadn’t taken long to discover that Barbara meant ‘home’ to him, no matter where (or when) they might be. So he would share this and they would laugh and then talk of other things, things of the future and not of the past. They would shake off the tension of the day over coffee and get set to do it again tomorrow – until all the days they were here on Earth outweighed the days they were away from it.

They would never quite forget their old friend (and his grand-daughter), but sometimes, it was better to remember even as you moved forward into a new adventure. As long as Barbara was adventuring with him, Ian could never see himself unhappy.

That was the thought that kept him going as he relearned how to be Ian Chesterton, science teacher and let go of (Sir) Ian Chesterton, adventurer and explorer of the stars. It wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be, though it wasn’t half as easy, either. Yet it got him through a day that went by too quickly, even as the minutes dragged as they never had before. He cleaned up from the last class with a smile on his face and weariness in his bones, the thought of Barbara meeting him for dinner taking sole residence in his mind, bringing extra energy to his limbs and enthusiasm to his task.

And when it rained halfway home, Ian laughed a quiet laugh and promptly put it down to the way of the universe…tucked safe and dry under his new (borrowed) umbrella.  


**Author's Note:**

>  **Warnings:** Character Study, Introspection, Mild Angst, Missing Scene, Episode Tag (for the ending of ' _The Chase_ ')  
>  **A/N:** Written for [](http://who-contest.livejournal.com/profile)[**who_contest**](http://who-contest.livejournal.com/) 's **Prompt:[Old Friends](http://who-contest.livejournal.com/202027.html)**. As with most of the challenges here of late, I had the problem of too many ideas and not one seemed to fit, much less become cohesive. I was left to the final hours and finally hit upon something that just seemed _right_ \- and I was immediately compelled to put it to paper. After two weeks of being unable to write, it was a relief to finally pen something, even as I am not quite sure I got it fully correct this time. I've never touched on Ian and Barbara before, but as I just recently said goodbye to them, I thought it only proper I do so in my own way - and this prompt was the perfect opportunity to do so. I'm not quite sure I got them right, but I gave it my best and for that alone, I hope I am forgiven if I truly did miss the mark. As per usual, this fic is mostly unbeta'd and written in one go, so please forgive any mistakes and/or blatant vagueness. As always, I apologize for any repetition, misspellings, sentence fails, grammatical oh-noes and general horridness. Unbeta'd fic is overly-thinky/blithery and unbeta'd.  
>  **Disclaimer(s): _I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!_**

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [And Almost Home (The Coal Hill Remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566220) by [paranoidangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranoidangel/pseuds/paranoidangel)




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